


You Got Some Mojo

by BdrixHaettC



Series: Angel Mojo [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post Season 2, Sarah Whittemore, fic outline, hybrid!Jackson, not-an-actual-fic, winged!Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BdrixHaettC/pseuds/BdrixHaettC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a semi-fill for a prompt posted on tumblr. </p><p>  <i>Jackson wakes up to discover he’s got some angel mojo.</i></p><p>Please read the Notes!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Got Some Mojo

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my tumblr with a link to the original post that inspired this.
> 
> The post itself contained multiple points for a Jackson-with-wings AU that made me want to write several oneshots that covered the points, but I suck at actually writing fic and only got so far as writing the outlines for 7 oneshots + 1 drabble. 
> 
> This here is the outline of the first fic I will never get to actually writing. My sister has assured me that it can stand on its own.

Jackson has always been a heavy sleeper. It takes him forever to wake up during normal circumstances, and without some form of caffeine to jump start his morning he doesn’t reach full consciousness until mid-morning.

But the past few months have been anything but normal and Jackson has gotten used to having sleepless nights or nights that are wrecked by nightmares.

(His subconscious is a wicked, wicked, place and his only saving grace is the fact that ultimately he doesn’t remember the things his Ego would punish him for if he did.)

So the times he is able to sleep without dreams without raiding his mother’s medicine cabinet are rare and infinitely precious.

Weather he self-medicates to the point he passes out, or he crashes in pure exhaustion after several days of insomnia, waking up the following morning is always a long and arduous task.

His mind inevitably feels like it’s moving through molasses and his thoughts are disjointed and random; it takes him a good half an hour before he can focus properly. 

Sleeping without dreams is a relief but he never feels rested afterwards.

When Jackson wakes up with no memory of the previous day, and no recollection of whether he raided his mother’s Valium or emptied his father’s liquor cabinet, he is not too worried. It’s either or because the fogginess in his head feels familiar, as does the taste of dead skunk in his mouth and the ache behind his eyes.

He dully thinks to draw the cover over his head to shut out what little light is trying to saw through his brain except his body feels disconnected, heavy and slow in a way not even a bender could account for.

He feels weighed down to the surface of his bed, and he wouldn’t mind the exhaustion making him limp except for that disconnect… not being able to move when you want to is something Jackson has learnt to fear.

The sudden adrenaline spike making his heart pound is enough to clear the remaining fuzziness and suddenly he is not feeling disconnected from his body. At all.

_Ow, ow, ow._

He doesn’t hurt exactly, not with the sharp pain of a broken bone, but he aches something fierce, and his skin feels tender and sore, hypersensitive to the point his silk sheets feel too rough. 

Jackson tries to move, to sit up, but barely manages to push up on his elbows in an attempt to eventually flip over when every muscle in his back and shoulders screams at him about how bad an idea it is. He barely manages to choke back a scream before he collapses face down on the bed again.

Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough because a few minutes later his mother pokes her head through his door tentatively asking if he’s ok. If he is awake.

When Jackson tries to garble something in reply with his face still buried in his pillow he is surprised by his mother enthusiastic response to his conscious state.

He manages to spit out the mouthful of pillowcase he’d caught and turn his head to blearily squint at her and is shocked to face a decidedly relieved mother who is fighting back obvious tears.

_What the f-?!?_

What follows are some of the most surreal hours of his life, which is saying something considering the clusterfuck his life became after Derek Hale rolled into town again.

His mother is visibly emotionally stressed, obviously about him. She ignores his initial questions about what is wrong, why is she still home? and his pathetic attempts to dissimilate how badly he is hurting so as not to make the look on her face worse. 

She doesn’t ask what is wrong but is insistent to get him to move, to turn over and sit up, and ends up having to help him because he is still too uncoordinated, too nauseous trying to move on his own.

Before he is really aware on how it happened is is gingerly leaning back against a mountain of pillows with his mother fussing over the blanket she is pulling over his lap.

As he drinks out of the glass of water she went and got him and swallows the couple of aspirin she handed him he wonders where the anger is? The accusation about lying to her and pilfering her medicine cabinet behind her back? Where is the disappointment about a lack of discipline that resulted in a disgrace of a son that can’t even sit up on his own without wanting to puke his stomach out?

Nothing makes sense.

And when his mother finally start talking, he has a hard time understanding what she is talking about. His mother is going on about how relieved she is that he is OK, that he’s awake, how scared she was that she was going to lose him. How close they got to that happening.

_How long was he actually out? If he accidentally poisoned himself, why isn’t he in a hospital?_

His mother’s ramblings might not make much sense on top of Jackson still struggling with nausea, with the ache in his back that doesn’t seem to quit inspite of the cloud he’s been made to lean against, and with her hands that seem to be everywhere (stroking his hair, adjusting his blankets), but it doesn’t take long for him to pick up bits and pieces that manage to get through the noise in his head and promptly turn his world inside out.

Like Jackson seems to have been out of it for a few days, and both his mother (and by extension his father) is now in the know about all things lunar courtesy of McCall.

Or at least insofar that werewolves exist and Scott McCall is one.

What. The. Fuck.

_“What’s the-, what do you remember?”_

Jackson realizes that he has no recollection of the past few days at all (not unusual come to think of it) and he tries to push down on the rising panic.

Trying to come up with excuses, or missdirections, is pointless, and his mother is relentless in trying to figure out where his headspace is at, especially after making sure he is not about to keel over and die on her.

For the first time in a long time she is not backing away in the face of Jackson stonewalling her.

They are heading for a full out argument, a first for them, when Jackson finds out exactly how much they have been informed of what has happened in the past few months, including the story about the kanima and his part in it. The what? His part in-what?!

Jackson is going to kill McCall. As soon as he survives his current panic attack he can no longer suppress and that Jackson is convinced is doing it’s best to kill him.

His mother grows frantic seeing Jackson’s reaction to her revelations and fearing he might slip into shock slips into an acute case of mouth diarrhea:

She is desperate to get Jackson to understand that they love him no less, that they do not hold him responsible for the actions of madmen. That Dr Deaton and Scott made it clear that none of it was Jackson’s fault, that it was over, and please, just please breath.

But Jackson, Jackson really can’t, because suddenly some things are crystal clear in his mind; the lizard monster people were talking about was him, he killed people, he died! And then he didn’t. The last thing Jackson clearly remember as himself is surviving the warehouse. Everything afterwards is fuzzy, including collapsing in Lydia’s arms.

Jackson has curled into himself on the bed while his mother tries to bring him out of his panic attack. She isn’t having much luck and Jackson is teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when the kitchen door is slammed open and hurried steps pound up the stairs.

Within moments Scott has crowded into Jackson’s space and is holding his face, gently urging him to breath, to calm, to open his eyes because it’s over. The Kanima is dead, and Jackson is safe. Nobody is going to hurt him anymore, and neither will Jackson. The Kanima is dead. Dead and gone. But Jackson is not. He survived. He is OK. 

Eventually Scott’s words are able to penetrate Jackson’s suffocating panic enough that he is able to open his eyes and stare at Scott, Scott with glowing yellow eyes urging him to breath, showing him how. It takes a while but Jackson is able to match Scott patterns and the panic recedes.

_It’s dead?_

_Deader than dead._

Jackson becomes aware that he is soaked through in cold sweat, his face is gross with other bodily fluids and his mother is crouching next to Scott, completely unbothered by the glowing eyes, and are those sideburns?

Jackson rubs at his face and gratefully accepts the damp towel his mother hands him. When did she move?

He can feel his embarrassment at his loss of control in front of McCall, and he opens his mouth to say something pithy, but something else comes out instead.

_You left the kitchen door open again._

Scott leans back, relieved that the worst of the attack seems to have passed though he can still hear Jackson’s elevated heartbeat and his scent is still sour with the smell of fear.

He’d been on his way to Jackson’s house to check up on him like he’s been doing every day since that night when he’d picked up on Jackson’s distress and realize what was happening.

He understood why Jackson was desperate to find answers and didn’t agree with the general consensus to keep mum until a baseline could be established of how much Jackson knew and remembered. Secrets haven’t worked out to well for any of them.

_Please, please, someone just tell me what the hell is going on?!?_

When Jackson practically begs for some real answers Scott promises to tell him everything he wants to know but that Scott needs to call a friend to help explain everything, and would Jackson mind if he did that now?

That is how Jackson finds out that the ‘friend’ is the Vet, Scott’s boss, who’s apparently a lot more than just a Vet.

It is thanks to him that Jackson is alive. Together Dr Deaton and Scott finally explain how the kanima was defeated, with Scott retelling that night with his eyewitness account. It’s obvious that his mother has heard it all before but Jackson has a hard time swallowing the fact that he was a murderous puppet lizard that was evolving to something bigger and badder that was only stopped because Lydia showed up and reminded him of his humanity long enough for him to wrestle control back and sacrifice himself.

_If you think that is weird you should have seen what happened afterwards._

Jackson didn’t die. De should have, but he didn’t. His mother quietly cries as Scott retells that part of the story and Jackson tries to tentatively reach out to her, but she turns her back to him asking for a moment.

Hearing about her son’s death is always going to be the worst thing that ever happened to her.

Jackson has his moment in the light (you should have seen it, it was very terminator-like), Scott attempt to bring some levity to the recounting falls flat, he grimaces and moves on.

According to Deaton, vanquishing the Kanima allowed for the long pending wolf transformation to take place and Jackson revived as a wolf. He also promptly fell unconscious again.

Lydia’s intervention prevented Derek from whisking Jackson away and Jackson was returned to the hospital where he was reunited with his parents, his best friend, and a lot of other people that thought he was dead. Jackson of course missed all of that due to being out of it at the time.

_Consider yourself lucky._

Jackson woke up a few days later, got checked out within an inch of his life (the hospital wasn’t going to be accused of malpractice again), and was released back home.

The constant influx of people to the Whittemore house wanting to welcome the prodigal son back kept most of Derek’s pack away. Jackson was never really left alone, either one of his parents were with him, or Lydia was. When it wasn’t them it was Danny, glued to his side like he expected Jackson to up and die on him again.

Scott and his friends chose to give him space once it became obvious that he wasn’t going to go berserk at any moment, choosing to leave him be. At least until they got closer to the next full moon.

Things quieted down and looked to be going back to normal as much as it was possible anymore until Scott got a frantic call from Lydia the day of the full moon. Jackson was burning up and hallucinating. The closer they got to the full moon the less control he had and he kept flashing his eyes.

Scott not entirely sure what happened but Jackson ended up running from his house and Derek found him in the middle of the preserve going through what looked to be a seizure.

Scott managed to track them both down and seeing Jackson’s state called his boss. They managed to get him to the clinic where Deaton did his best to keep his fever down and restrain him to prevent him from hurting himself. Derek was convinced that Jackson was rejecting the bite again, except that didn’t make sense since it’s been several weeks since his resurrection as a werewolf. Deaton claimed that same resurrection triggered a latent transformation that was now being brought out by the wolf being tied to the full moon.

Exactly what that was they could just wait and see.

Basically Jackson was never fully human to being with.

What followed was some of the most traumatizing hours of Scott life. He never wants to go through them again. He got to see Jackson get torn apart and rebuilt into something Scott has a hard time believing in, even though Deaton is quite sure of it. Scott never wants to hear someone be in that much pain. Not ever again. Especially since it didn’t end with the full moon.

No, the full moon triggered it, but it took a few days for the metamorphosis to complete.

In the mean time Jackson’s parents were able to track him down by figuring out that whatever it was they witnessed that day had something to do with Scott McCall.

Tracking him down to the vet clinic revealed more than they ever could have expected.

Ultimately they ended up taking Jackson home since the clinic turned out not to be very adequate to keep Jackson hidden with the racket he was making. Jackson’s room is soundproof and Deaton agreed to treat him there, hoping the familiar surroundings would be enough to anchor him while he fought for his sanity and his body.

It was an awful five days but Jackson’s fever eventually broke and Deaton declared that the worst was finally over. The two opposing forces in Jackson had finally settled into a new configuration and the only thing left was to wait.

With Jackson awake it should only be a matter of time.

 _Wait for what?_ Jackson ask, frustrated how they still manage to be vague about what was actually happening to him.

_How your powers will manifest._

_My powers?_

_Your Nephilim powers, yes._

↭

Jackson is done. He has reached his limit of what he can take, and he just needs the world to stop, stop for one second so that he can either get off it or just take a timeout.

He manages to get to his feet before anyone can stop him and flees to the bathroom, shutting the door in Scott face as he tries to talk to Jackson, his expression worried and Jackson is so getting sick of that look being directed at him already…

It takes him a moment to realize that he is breathing too fast, close to hyperventilating again, and he stumbles to the sink, opening the faucet with trembling hands and splashes his face with the cold water.

It works as intended as the shock of the cold snaps him out of the incipient panic and he stand there, over the sink, leaning with his elbows on the counter as he slows his breathing and just focuses on that action. He scowls when he realizes he is repeating the pattern Scott had shown him earlier.

But it helps.

After a while the noise in his head quiets and he is calm enough that the thought of going outside to face the others don’t send him into a panic.

When he thinks he is ready he looks up and freezes as his finally sees his reflection in the mirror.

He is pale, his freckles standing out, and he’s got dark circles under his eyes that make them look sunken, his eyes bright, are they bluer than normal? His hair hang limply against his forehead, dark with sweat and grease. Disgusting.

He runs a hand along his shin and the skin feel dry, brittle. He eyes his chest and realize he’s lost some weight, significant weight in fact as he runs a hand along the ondulation that are for more pronounced than he remembers them ever being since he started to pack on muscles.

He sees the mottled colors of fading bruises that pepper his skin along his sides and between his ribs in a weird pattern he doesn’t really want to think about. His back still aches and the skin stretches uncomfortably. He carefully turns his head far enough to catch a glimpse of the bruises stretching all across his back. He turns his back towards the mirror to get a better look.

The bottom falls out of his stomach.

His back is a mess of black and blue bruises, but what draws his attention are the two large scars running the length of his back, starting at his shoulderblades and neatly cutting through the tissue of his back, all the way down to the small of his back.

The skin around the edges are ragged and puckered like something had burst out and the skin healed badly.

Something like wings.

The End of Outline 1.

Next… Outline 2

**Author's Note:**

> Points filled from the prompt:
> 
> _Jackson with wings_
> 
> _Jackson coming back to life after Derek kills him to discover he’s got some angel mojo_
> 
> Characters: Jackson Whittemore, Sarah Whittemore, Scott McCall, Allan Deaton.


End file.
